


You're Like A Disease Without Any Cure

by Pluppelina



Series: I Need Some Fine Wine And You Need To Be Nicer [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fucked Up Relationship, Jim abuses his power, M/M, non-graphic mention of torture, not that Sebastian seems to mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-19
Updated: 2012-05-19
Packaged: 2017-11-05 15:56:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/408266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pluppelina/pseuds/Pluppelina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sebastian gets an anniversary gift he didn't expect, and gives one he never even knew about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Like A Disease Without Any Cure

Sent from JM to SM at 9.25: You’ve got an appointment at a tattoo parlour at noon. 

Sent from SM to JM at 9.34: What am I having done, sir? 

Sent from JM to SM at 9.36: Consider it a three-month employment bonus.

Sebastian’s standing about outside of the place, smoking. He’s running late. It’s not that he’s a stranger to needles in any way, he’s got a tiger tattooed across half his back, but the thought of not knowing what’s about to go on his body makes him nervous. Knowing Jim, it could be anything, and knowing Jim, Sebastian can’t turn it down no matter what it is. Jim might’ve used him for a lot of things that would’ve made normal men cave, but he’s never crossed the line to actually do something to Sebastian’s body before. It’s unsettling to think that his skin no longer belongs to him alone, that he has to share ownership of himself with someone else - and he does have to. He doesn’t know for sure because he’s never asked to see the damn piece of paper since but it wouldn’t surprise him a lot if he’s signed away his body as well as his special set of skills. Maybe that decision, thought-through as it was, had been a bit rash. There are probably better ways to impress Jim Moriarty. On the other hand, he doubts any of them would be as easy and effective as signing that paper had been. 

It’s too late to regret that now. It’s too late to protest this turn of events, and that isn’t even the worst part. The worst part is that even though Sebastian is hyper-aware of this crossing of a line, it won’t be hard to just let it happen, because this isn’t the line. It’s just a line. He wonders how many of these they’ll cross before Jim decides to go too far, and he wonders what will happen when he does. 

The bell rings and a man sticks his face out, looking left and right before spotting him. “Sebastian Moran?” 

Sebastian drops his cigarette and nods. “Yeah, I know.” He expects the man to leave him alone, to go wait inside, but he doesn’t. Sebastian raises an eyebrow. 

“Are you having second thoughts?” the man asks kindly. Sebastian shakes his head, no, he isn’t going to try to make a run for it. He’s already signed himself away to the devil, and if the devil wants to mark his body, who is Sebastian to protest? The man doesn’t seem to be aware that anything that vicious is going down here. 

“Your boyfriend told me to remind you that you’ve already promised.” The tattoo artist still sounds so kind, as if he has no idea that he’s lying, and Sebastian supposes that he doesn’t. He smiles back as he makes his way inside. 

“I have, haven’t I. Could you show me what he chose again?”

*

An hour and a half later, Sebastian walks out of there with the Moriarty family crest on his right shoulder blade. It looks as if his tiger is looking up at it, reaching out for it, and it seems oddly appropriate somehow. It’s not as bad as Sebastian had anticipated before, but still... He’s still marked in the same way that Jim’s silverware is, in the same way that Jim’s towels and handkerchiefs are. He really is Jim’s property, now, and it makes his skin prickle in a strange way. He can’t decide whether the feeling is good or bad, only that it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before. 

Jim calls him as he’s crossing the street on his way home. 

“Do you like it?” There are sounds in the background, shuffling noises. Jim is busy so Sebastian should keep this brief. 

“Don’t know yet,” he admits. Jim always knows when he’s lying so there’s no point in even trying. “You chose the spot well.” 

“I did, didn’t I...” Someone screams in the background, a loud, wordless cry of pain. Jim sighs. “Hang on, my guest is being rude...” The guest in question starts repeating a very panicked “no” over and over, which is followed by a muffling of his voice and then even, terrified breathing. 

“Now, where were we?” Jim says as he returns, as if nothing had happened. “Right, yes. My tattoo. If something happens to you, I want them to know who they’re dealing with.” 

Sebastian’s dully aching shoulder suddenly sends off a flare of pain. So... when Jim said bonus, Jim meant bonus. When Jim said bonus, he meant that Sebastian would gain the protection of his reputation, that Sebastian would benefit from this more than Jim would. He hadn’t expected that. Usually, he did what Jim told him to do because he valued his life; it’s never gained him anything before. He’s never known Jim to be kind for the sake of kindness before. 

“Thank you, sir,” he breathes, chest swelling up at the notion that he, of all people, managed to do enough things right to deserve this. He wonders how many other men in the world match him. 

“Don’t get any ideas,” Jim says as if he could read Sebastian’s mind. “I won’t swoop in to save you. All I’ve given you is a tool.” And while that might be true, Sebastian is only starting to grasp the true meaning of this gesture, and he doesn’t know what to say, and he isn’t given any time to answer. “Now get to the warehouse, I need someone who’s good with pliers.”

*

Sebastian goes to bed that night, lies down like he always does, closes his eyes and empties his mind. On an average night, Sebastian falls asleep in four seconds flat, but not tonight. The dull ache in his shoulder is distracting, which is odd, because Sebastian has slept through far worse before. It takes him a moment to realise what’s going on because it’s just so bizarre. Is he starting to feel doubtful about this now? He was fine when he entered the parlour, accepted it when he was shown the simple, tasteful M that Jim had probably designed for himself, made small talk about their upcoming wedding with the tattoo artist and kept his cool the entire time. He went and pulled first the fingernails and then the teeth out of a man Jim needed information from, talked about it calmly while he did so, went on with his day and forgot all about it. And now here he is. Doubting this. 

Maybe not this as such. His shoulder aches but it’s okay; it’s just a shoulder, and the design is really very tasteful. He had been expecting worse. Ever so slowly, it starts to dawn on him that that is the exact problem - he doesn’t mind this. Jim marked his body like this, marked him as his, and he doesn’t think of it as a problem. No matter where he goes now, he’ll always have Jim sitting on his shoulder, watching over him, and that’s not a bad thing. Maybe it’s not even a bad thing that it isn’t a bad thing.

Sent from SM to JM at 11.04: I never thanked you properly for the tattoo. It’s very nice. 

Sent from JM to SM at 11.06: I know, tiger. Go back to sleep.


End file.
